


The Greatest Gift He Could Give

by Guanin



Category: Heroes - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik makes up for injuring Charles in the best way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Gift He Could Give

“Professor, Erik is on the phone.”

Lowering his book, Charles turned toward Hank, a frown wrinkling his brow. He had not spoken with Erik since fourteen months ago, when Erik called to say how sorry he was for causing Charles’s paralysis. Afterwards, Erik had made sure to cut off all contact.

“Erik?” Charles asked, picking up the phone. It felt uncommonly heavy against his ear. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling?”

“You’re terribly suspicious, Charles,” Erik said, his voice so welcome that Charles felt sweat start to prickle at the back of his neck. “I guess I deserve it. Nothing’s wrong. Actually, I’m trying to right a wrong I committed.”

“To who?”

“To you.”

Charles knew better than to hope that this meant Erik was abandoning his anti-mutant stance and rejoining Charles in a quest for mutual prosperity. He’d been too naïve to believe he could change Erik before. 

“What exactly are you referring to?”

“I’d like it to be a surprise.” 

Erik asked him to go to the Hilton in New York City, room 472, at 4pm the next day. The team balked at the idea, but Charles informed them that this was not a negotiation. 

“Erik would never harm me,” Charles said.

“He’s already harmed you,” Alex said, waving his arm at the wheelchair Charles had been forced to move about in during the past year. 

“This was an accident.”

Charles’s mouth tensed around the words. He had forgiven Erik for this, he told himself, but it was still too soon for forgotten. 

He arrived promptly at the hotel, Sean in tow. He had been the least recalcitrant of all the team, and thus the least likely to fidget and cause trouble. However, Charles didn’t actually want him in the room when he saw Erik for the first time since the accident. He wanted it to be private, not a spectator sport. After wheeling Charles into the elevator, Sean ambled out into the lobby, digging his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched as he asked,

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Charles said, pressing the ‘4’ button. “I’m sure.”

The concern really was touching, but it got irritating sometimes. 

Once on the floor, Charles only had to go down two doors to the left to find 472. Erik had made sure he could reach the room easily. This concern was not so irritating. Erik didn’t tarry in answering the door. Seeing him was like a spring rain quenching drought cracked earth. A smile lit up Erik’s face, happier than Charles had expected, and he did not restrain his own smile at seeing his old friend again. He missed him so much it hurt even in the bones he couldn’t feel anymore. Erik wasn’t wearing his helmet. This was a social call, not a battle. Charles wouldn’t take advantage of that to manipulate his friend under these circumstances, no matter how far he had strayed. He had given his word. Yet, although he couldn’t hear Erik’s thoughts, he could still feel the comforting presence of his mind and was grateful for it. 

“It’s good to see you, Charles,” Erik said. 

“It’s good to see you, too.”

The door proved a tad narrow for Charles to go inside without brushing his arms against the frame, so Erik pulled the wheels for him, closing the door behind him. 

“Thank you,” Charles said. 

“It’s the least I can do, Charles. But I intend to do considerably more for you today.”

Right before the bathroom door opened, Charles felt the hum of another mind in the room. He should have noticed it earlier, had he not been so overwhelmed by seeing Erik again. A young man emerged. Well dressed, the satisfaction of self-confidence underlying his frame, and certainly a mutant. Also, he was accustomed to telepaths, for Charles’s usual superficial survey yielded only muddled vagueness. 

“Here’s my surprise,” Erik said. “Charles, this is Daniel.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Charles,” Daniel said, stretching out his hand for Charles to shake.

“The pleasure’s mine,” Charles said.

Daniel covered Charles’s hand with both of his in a firm handshake. 

“I know you probably are already,” Daniel said, not letting go of his hand, “but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look in my mind. I prefer to maintain my privacy.”

Probably why Erik didn’t provide a last name. 

“Alright,” Charles said, though he was most curious now, especially as Daniel insisted on holding his hand hostage.

“Paralyzed below the waist, I take it. Severed spinal cord. Most unfortunate.”

“Yes, it was.”

Charles looked at Erik, questioning, but his friend had his gaze fixed on Charles’s and Daniel’s joined hands, an expectant frown worrying his brow. What was he so eager for? 

“Well,” Daniel said, finally letting go. “I won’t detain you any longer. Mr. Lensherr, It’s been interesting meeting you.”

“I trust you have done as promised,” Erik said, a tense threat underlining his words. 

“Of course. I trust one of your associates shall detain me outside until you ascertain that I have. It was nice meeting you, Charles. And I trust you will have a most pleasant afternoon.”

As soon as he swept out the door, Charles turned to Erik. 

“Would you mind explaining to me what just happened?” he asked. “Why did he hold my hand for so long? And why are you staring at my legs like that?”

“Do you feel any different?” Erik asked. 

“No. Should I? What power does that man have?”

“Not even in your legs?” 

Erik crouched in front of him, contemplating Charles’s shins.

“In my legs? Why would I—“

The words dried on his tongue. Erik had just touched Charles’s left thigh. 

“Can you feel this?” Erik looked straight into Charles’s eyes as he spoke, hope brimming bright.

“I…” Charles lost his breath. “I can.”

“Can you move them?”

Charles feared to send a command to muscle that had been dead in the water for fourteen months only to have his heart wrench when it didn’t respond, but he could feel Erik’s fingers massaging his thigh, which felt thicker than before, atrophied muscles no longer so. He tried flexing his toes. They nudged against the inside of his shoes. 

“Oh God,” he gasped, grabbing Erik’s hand. Slowly, as if this dream might vanish if he prodded too hard, he lowered his feet onto the floor, braced himself on the armrest with his left hand, and pushed himself upright. Erik rose with him, a happy grin bursting on his face. Charles’s legs held just like they ever had before the accident. No numbness, no pain, no nothing, just normal, glorious mobility. He laughed as he strode around the room, twirling his legs to and fro to delight in his recovered freedom, even taking little hops like a child on a warm spring day.

“Erik, this is amazing,” he said, hugging his friend tight. “Thank you so much.”

“I couldn’t leave you in that chair,” Erik said in his ear. “All this past year I’ve been looking for someone with healing powers. Our kind have all sorts of abilities, so I thought, why not this one?”

“I can never thank you enough for this.”

“I’m the one who caused you fourteen months of misery. I owed you.”

At that moment, Charles cared not about Erik’s attack on the CIA three months before or the scandal he caused on the 6 o’clock news two months before that. He kissed Erik with all the passion and frustration of fourteen months imprisoned in a chair without his lover to soothe the demons away. 

“Don’t think I’ve stopped loving you, Charles,” Erik said against his lips.

“I know, Erik. I know.”


End file.
